Warm are the words
you spoke to me then.
Now I fear them in longing
of everlasting concavity
that I should hear them again.
Sweet honey oozes in somber timbre,
they flow through me and rush!
like a river fills every crack in the stone.
Majestic and nay, angelic, that God
graces the land with an image of He
but rather a voice of disastrous beauty
entranced even now by
mere temptatious thought.
In dreams I await to hear echoes and
reverberations an ounce remaining
still potent in my existential awestruck.
This is a romantic poem composed by Andrew Smith, a Class of 2024 student in the Honors College. In celebration of National Poetry Month, “186 South College” will be posting the work of Honors students weekly throughout the month of April and May as bonus content. If you or someone you know would like to share their work as a guest writer like Andrew, we are still accepting submissions at this link: https://bit.ly/186Poets22
